after Kiki Smith

Éireann Lorsung

One of us had to do it,
no question.

To go and live inside the wolf

and walk out one day, rip
its soft abdomen

open and leave

the carcass there like a casting.
Truth is,

we fought this—

we wore one another under
our nails for weeks.

We know what it's like

to stay where things are mostly
made of blood.

We know the soft

wet feeling walking in.
We know

where to slice to get away.